


Destined

by petalsandguitars



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Backstory, Character Thoughts, Gen, Pre-Canon, Pre-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 20:24:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14088972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petalsandguitars/pseuds/petalsandguitars
Summary: Ernesto de la Cruz had always been lonely and at some point he couldn’t help but believe that he was nothing short than destined to be.





	Destined

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my Tumblr post for this here: https://fedecolombo.tumblr.com/post/172684258327/.
> 
> Writing based on my own idea.

Ernesto de la Cruz had always been lonely.

He had been born in the orphanage of Santa Cecilia, Mexico, where his mother had come to alone and had left him there on his own and a name.

In the early years he had spent there, having been named by family unlike the other kids, had been some sort of thin thread to hold on to, a hope that they might be back for him one day.

It wasn’t long after that that last hope died.

He had always kept to his own, never bonding with any of the other children.

At the point when he was the oldest in the orphanage but still not old enough to leave, one Héctor Rivera arrived.

He would cry and cry all the time, bawling about missing his parents, who had passed only days previously in an accident.

Ernesto had thought him to be the nth crybaby he would have come across but when he saw the other children picking on him for being a newcomer _and_ a crybaby, something had stirred inside of him and so Ernesto had taken Héctor under his still small wing.

They became friends in a matter of moments, best friends for life in a matter of hours.

And that was it, Ernesto finally felt complete.

He had found his family in Héctor and he thought he would never have had to let go.

But then, not so many years later, one Imelda Rivera came into their lives and destroyed everything Ernesto had come to know as a certainty.

Life went on though, and it was what it was.

He had to share Héctor with this awful woman now, and then with their baby girl as well.

He could tolerate it, he was used to hardship and this was just one more test.

But when he was put in the perspective of remaining completely alone, he had gone to reach lenghts that he had never thought he would actually find himself going to reach.

He had murdered his best friend, his _only_ friend.

He had experienced loss with his own birth and he wasn’t about to be left behind ever again.

And so _his_ life went on and again it was what it was.

But now it was grand and yet so excruciatingly empty.

He had had many lovers and kept finding new ones and new acquaintances who claimed to be his friends and he most definitely didn’t object.

Some times he had even dared hope that he had finally found a friend, _the_ friend, only to be disappointed again and again and finding himself feeling as downcast as he wasn’t willing to allow himself to be.

Never again in his life did he find a friend, a true friend.

He was the boy that had been left with only a name for himself.

He was Ernesto de la Cruz and he felt destined to be forever alone.

Fame and glory had become his only companions and places of solace, but ultimately, he was on his own, on his own with a name that had become famous.

Yet somehow, behind smiles and much pretend, Ernesto de la Cruz was not only a lonely man, he was sad and extremely so but never did he allow himself to dwell on those thoughts.

 _I am Ernesto de la Cruz, the greatest musician of all times_ , he would repeat to himself just like a mantra until he finally came to believe it.

And so now he was Ernesto de la cRuz and if he had felt destined to be forever alone, now he willed himself to believe that it had to be for a reason and that reason was that he had been destined for greatness.

But little did he know that while he was always hiding behind smiles and fleeting cheerfulness, there was someone else, in an entirely different land, who kept hiding his pain behind smiles and genuine kindness.

And that was his Héctor Rivera, his best friend, his brother, his _only_ friend for life.

Now death itself separated them but little did he know that one day, he could have found him again.

But for now, he was Ernesto de la Cruz and he was destined to be alone.


End file.
